


Amongst The Sheep (And The Wolves)

by Momokai



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: AU for a reason, Akira Is A Dog With A Bone, Alternate Universe - Canon, Amon Doesn't Know How To Take That, Amon Logic TM, Amon the Dork, Angst, Anime only, Aogiri Tree - Freeform, BAMF Kaneki, Bloodshed/Gore, Bullshit Science, CCG are idiots, Cannibalism, Canon-Fodder OC's, Canon-Typical Violence, Don't Read The Next Tags Unless You Want Spoilers, Don't Start With Me, Donato Has Reasons, Drama, Gen, Ghouls, Half-Ghoul Amon Koutarou, Hide knows, Inappropriate Humor, Liberties Taken With Amon's Past, Made For The Purpose Of Dying, Not Floppy, Not Manga Compliant, Possible Amoneki, Shironeki | White-haired Kaneki, Swearing, They're Crap, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Vigilantism, possible slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 08:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8659792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momokai/pseuds/Momokai
Summary: [Edited Summary] The world needed to change. There was nothing but death and loss and fear. Problem is, people didn't want change, even if they demanded it. Sometimes, the choice had to be taken from them. Amon knew change. He learned from an early age, he knew it wasn't easy and he knew it was painful. The world was wrong and it needed to change, now. Even if it meant being the wolf hiding amongst the sheep.    The first step to change the world starts with the first cry for help. Those that stand by and those that turn away herald true evil. Those that stay silent, the willfully ignorant believe the world to be right. The one who hears, the one who sees, he who stands up to cry to the heavens, ‘this world is wrong.'(On Hiatus)





	1. The First Step

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Tokyo Ghoul.
> 
> Enjoy!

_“-attack in the twentieth ward today-”_

_“-rate of ghoul activity in the area-”_

_“-surprisingly no casualties thanks to the efforts of the CCG-”_

_“-several bodies believed to be ghouls found in-”_

_“-a known person of interest-”_

_“-two years ago, allegedly targeting high profile ghouls-”_

_“-Investigators found dead, it is believed to be the work of-”_

_“-head of the CCG was not available for comment.”_

_“-investigations into the alleged ghoul deaths reported to also be the work of-”_

_“-appeared almost two years ago and has evaded capture ever since.”_

_“- SS-Class ghoul dubbed ‘The Wolf’ by the CCG-” ___

__

__“You know, it’s funny,” Mado Akira began as she sat down in the opposite chair in the CCG cafeteria. “We’ve been tracking this guy ever since he appeared two years ago, but the only thing we’ve managed to learn about him is that he’s dangerous and apparently has something against assholes.” She finished as she reached over the table to steal a fry from the lunch tray left untouched. “We know more about the Owl than we do this guy.” The blond added after she’d swallowed her stolen fry, before reaching for another. “He doesn’t follow a pattern like most other high profile ghouls. One second he’s tearing apart Investigators, the next he lets them off with a few scratches and a bruised ego.” Akira continued as she dipped her next stolen fry into the puddle of sauce on the edge of the plate containing them. “And then we find dead ghouls and traces of his RC signature. Does this guy even care _who _he’s killing?” She wondered aloud, reaching for another fry.___ _

____Amon Koutarou sighed and nudged his barely touched lunch towards his blonde partner who accepted the offering with a pleased smile._ _ _ _

____“He’s a ghoul Akira, who knows what’s going through his head.” Amon replied as he absently cleaned his fingers with a napkin. Akira hummed as she swallowed a mouthful of saucey fries._ _ _ _

____“But that’s the thing, isn’t it?” She retorted as she dusted her hands together to remove any salt before reaching down beside her to pull a folder from her bag. She placed the folder on the table beside her gifted lunch and slid it to her larger partner, who sighed once again. “We know so little about him, but he’s _everywhere _. Last week he was in the thirteenth, the other day he was spotted in the eighteenth. Now he’s in the twentieth ward and no one knows why he’s moving around so much or what his motives are.” The woman said as she reached for the cup of coffee that sat beside Amon’s lunch tray.___ _ _ _

______Amon hummed at the folder as he snatched his coffee away from Akira’s creeping fingers, ignoring her grumble and taking a long sip. It wasn’t quite steaming anymore, but it was still relatively warm. He resisted the urge to grimace at the taste; the CCG cafeteria had never had the best coffee._ _ _ _ _ _

______“He’s a mystery alright.” He agreed as he thumbed through the folder his partner had brought. “Where did you even get this, Akira?” The dark haired Investigator asked as he drained the last of his coffee._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Does it matter? I’ve been going over the reports submitted by witnesses and other Investigators-”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Akira.” Amon groaned as he tiredly rubbed his cheek with one hand, teal eyes squinting at his partner with resigned disapproval. “Did you weasel this out of the Intelligence Department?” He asked. Akira huffed and folded her arms, frowning at him. He sighed. “The Wolf isn’t our case, Akira.” He stated as he dropped his hand. “We’re to track down Rabbit and-”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“The Eyepatch yes, I know, but there’s something off about the Wolf case.” The blond Investigator retorted. Amon raised a brow in response, intrigued._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh?” He asked. Akira leant forward over the table, sliding the lunch tray to the side to avoid getting sauce on her uniform._ _ _ _ _ _

______“His attacks. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. The CCG know next to nothing about him, but the eye witness reports all say the same thing! His kills, who he lets get away, and no one can say they _escaped _, because a ghoul like this, people don’t get away from him, Amon, _he lets them go _.” She declared heatedly, and Amon felt a headache building._____ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Akira-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“He lets them go Amon.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yes, you said that already, but-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ _Amon _, he _lets them go _. Investigators, humans, _food _. He turns up, kills who he wants to kill, and _only _the ones he meant to, and just stands there and lets the others go. He’s _targeting _specific people!”___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“It’s just a theory, Akira-” Amon was once again interrupted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Nagitaki Oshinji.” She stated simply, and Amon perked up in interest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Who?” He asked, and Akira slapped her hand down on the table, a single sheet of paper trapped beneath her palm. Amon tilted forward and peered down at the paper, seeing it to be a police report. “…An Investigator?” He wondered as he read the report. Domestic dispute, no charges made, still on active duty. Akira nodded and smirked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Nagitaki Oshinji. Known for his almost zealous hate of ghouls, he’s been reprimanded several times by the higher ups for his unnecessary brutality against low ranked ghouls on cases. He’s a spiteful bastard through and through, never leaves much of the ghoul in one piece.” She explained, and Amon felt his lips twitch down in a disgusted frown. Unnecessary brutality against low rank ghouls. The bastard was tormenting _children. _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“He’s the Wolf’s next target.” The blond across the table abruptly announced, and Amon felt his eyebrows spring to his hairline in surprise._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Excuse me?” He asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his uniform jacket tightened around his shoulders, and Amon resisted the urge to pull it off. Akira was shaping up to be an amazing Investigator, just like her father, but Amon hoped and prayed that she would never turn out like Kureo._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“That’s his next target. Amon, I think he’s actively targeting the ‘zealots’. High profile ghouls, and Investigators!” Akira announced excitedly, and Amon lifted a hand to run it through his dark hair in thought._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“That’s a big ‘I think’ Akira.” He admitted after a beat, and his partner nodded with a sigh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I know, but it’s my intuition telling me Amon. It feels right.” She said firmly. The larger Investigator sighed and rubbed his face with the hand that had been in his hair, before covering his face entirely with both and groaning._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Akira~” He moaned, because if they did something with this ‘information’ and it turned up a false lead, it was _his _ass on the fire with the higher ups as the Senior Investigator. His blonde partner smirked.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“We could crack this case, Amon.” She tacked on and Amon peeked at her between his fingers, stating deadpan;_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Or die trying. Or worse, get _demoted _.” He retorted. Akira shrugged and ate another fry before frowning at the tray, and then at him.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Hey, how come you weren’t eating your lunch anyway?” She asked and Amon dropped his hands from his face and shrugged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“I had a big breakfast, so I’m not really all that hungry yet.” He explained as he shrugged and eyed his empty coffee cup mournfully. Akira pursed her lips and shoved his tray back towards him after stealing one last fry._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“You need to eat. You’re a big guy, you need the carbs.” She stated sternly. Amon sighed long sufferingly and eyed the half eaten plate of fries. “Don’t make me get Shinohara.” She threatened, and Amon huffed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Yes _mo~m. _” He retorted before pointedly stuffing a few fries in his mouth. Akira smiled at him.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________. . .  
. . ._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Amon sighed as he emerged from the toilet cubicle fixing the cuffs of his long sleeved shirt, skin slightly damp with sweat. The Investigator grimaced at his reflection in the mirror above the sink; he’d removed his formal jacket and placed it on the counter as he’d come in, so at least it was likely to cover the creases in his white button up after his impromptu after lunch detour. His hair however was another story._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Turning the tap on, Amon cupped his hands beneath the cool water and leant down to splash his face, sparing a moment to rinse his mouth out as well. Straightening, he stared at himself in the mirror for a moment before he raised a hand to try and fix his mussed hair. His detour to the restroom following his lunch with Akira had ended with his hair sweat soaked and all over the place. His face was paler than usual as well; overall, he looked about as horrid as he felt. Today just didn’t seem to be his day, he couldn’t afford to be ill when they were so _close. _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Damn it.” He muttered as he tried to brush his hair with his fingers, ignoring the pungent smell of the men’s restroom and his own sweat. This day was shaping up to be a poor one indeed. The door to his left swung open, and Amon tried to fix his grimacing face into something a little more neutral as none other than Shinohara Yukinori wondered in._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Amon? Wow, you look like shit.” The Special Investigator stated as he headed for the urinal._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Thanks.” Amon grumbled sarcastically as he gave up on his hair and instead grabbed a few paper towels to dry his face and hands. His white button up hadn’t escaped getting wet by the tap, and Amon sighed again as he tried to dab it dry with some more towel as Shinohara stepped up to the sink on his right to wash his hands._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“You feeling ok kid?” The older Investigator asked concernedly as he peered at the dark haired man in the mirror. Amon balled up the paper towel and tossed them into the trash bin under the sink._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Yeah, I’m fine.” He replied as he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on unhurriedly. Shinohara hummed as he dried his own hands._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“You sure? You’re pale, and judging by the toilet paper on your knee, you’ve been making an offering to the porcelain gods.” His old mentor said, eying him up and down, and Amon dropped his gaze to his legs where, sure enough, a single crinkled piece of toilet paper was sticking to his pant leg over his knee. He grimaced at it and shook his leg out, dislodging the paper._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Just a stomach bug, it’ll be gone soon enough.” The teal eyed male replied with a faint smile. Shinohara snorted at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“You should have just called in sick and taken the day for yourself, Amon. The last thing we need is a bug getting around.” The brunette said seriously as he clapped a hand on Amon’s broad back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Seriously kid, take the rest of the day off, you look like hell.” The man said, and Amon frowned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“But Akira and I are-” Shinohara waved him off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Go home Amon, I’ll handle your partner.” Amon opened his mouth to protest again, but a stern glare from Shinohara had him sighing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Alright, fine.” He acquiesced, slumping. Shinohara snorted and clapped him on the back again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Go home, get some rest. Your paperwork will still be there tomorrow, and I don’t think any ghouls are gonna be spontaneously bashing at the windows just because you’re not here.” He said with a laugh, and Amon smiled faintly in response as he allowed the man to shepherd him to the door and out into the hall of the CCG. “I mean it kid, go home, drink plenty of water, and get some sleep. I want you in top shape for tomorrow!” Shinohara declared with a smile, and Amon nodded as the man turned and walked off, leaving him standing awkwardly in the hall by himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Look’s like he’d be heading home early today._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________. . .  
. . ._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“And stay out, asshole!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Nagitaki Oshinji staggered as he was forcefully ejected from Gin’s Bar, barely stopping himself from colliding with a busty brunette on the sidewalk._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Watch it, jerk!” The brunette screeched as she side stepped his drunken flailing. Nagitaki snarled wordlessly at the woman as he righted himself and turned to face the owner of the bar he’d been tossed from._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Yer gonna pay for tha’ bastard!” He shouted as he waved his fist at the man, who rolled his eyes and slammed the door behind him. “Fucker.” Nagitaki spat as he fumbled with his jacket, straightening it forcefully. Today was not his day. First, he’d been saddled with paperwork, then he’d been forced to sit in on a recruit drive, and then that little bitch had gotten away from him. What good was a ghoul if it didn’t stand still. He’d chased that slimy little beast all over the city, but she’d evaded him, cunning little witch. He’d gotten the monsters sire, enjoyed separating his head from his body while the ghouls spawn squealed like a stuffed pig a little ways away. He’d get her tomorrow, he had a few ideas on where she’d be lurking and this time he’d get her, and when he did his quinque would be put to good use, he’d make it nice and slow too, little brat deserved it for making him chase her all over the place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Nagitaki headed for his apartment, swaying as he walked. He’d hit the bar as soon as he’d finished at the CCG for the day, needing the pick up after a horrid day, but of course some asshole had to cut his fun short and kick him out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________He crossed the street without looking, and gave the older man who’d hit his brakes and honked at him the finger. He was an Investigator damn it, but did he get any respect around here? No, ungrateful fuckers, the lot of em._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________He almost tripped over the curb when he reached the opposite side of the street, and he cursed as he swayed and almost tipped over. He’d sleep well tonight, that was for sure. He turned a corner and continued on his way, grumbling over the fact the bartender had taken his car keys, and had had the absolute _gall _to take his quinque case. He’d get them both back in the morning, and he’d give that asshole a piece if his mind, he was an Investigator, a simple _bartender _had no right to even touch his weapon, let alone _take it from him _. So what if he was drinking, what he did in his spare time was his damned business, wasn’t like he was gonna activate the damn thing and swing it around like an idiot._______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________Cars passed him by on his walk, and Nagitaki continued on, entering the tunnel under the bridge five minutes away from his apartment. The rounded walls were covered in graffiti, depicting various works of art, some actually pleasant, but most unflattering portraits of various people, and sometimes even the occasional ghoul, painted into the grotesque abominations that better suited the things than their actual appearances. Light in the tunnel was scarce, the few lights that traversed the ceiling at even intervals dim with age, due for replacements. One flickered and buzzed as he passed under it, and Nagitaki tilted his head to spit on the floor, shuddering against a cold breeze drifting through the tunnel._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________A sound behind him had him pausing to peer over his shoulder, and Nagitaki sneered at the tabby cat batting at a discarded soda can. “Pest.” He grumbled as he turned back to continue his journey home. The next light he passed under was brighter than the rest, but he paid it no mind as he swayed drunkenly with each step, his scuffing footfalls occasionally accompanied by a crunch of trash or light splash of puddle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________The next light he passed under was as unremarkable as the last. Until it suddenly exploded in a shower of bright sparks and glass right over his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Fuck!” Nagitaki swore as he hastily ducked out of the way, shielding his head with his arms as he staggered into the defaced wall. The remains of the light sparked a few times more before failing all together, and Nagitaki glared at it in indignant fury as he tugged harshly on his jacket to dislodge any remaining glass. “Useless piece of shit.” He snarled as he swiped a hand over his short cropped head, pulling it back to sneer at the flecks of blood on his palm. “Great.” He groused, rubbing his head again and glaring at the remains of the busted light once more. Of all the luck._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________With the ordeal over with, Nagitaki dismissed the glass on the floor and turned to continue home, until something odd caught his eye. Pausing, he peered down at the ground, and blinked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________Amongst the shattered remains of the light, a small throwing knife glinted innocently on the filthy ground. “What the.” He wondered in confusion as he knelt to pick it up. He examined the small blade with alcohol hazed eyes. Had it been there before? He thought back, but almost instantly dismissed it. Who cared. Shrugging, Nagitaki pocketed the knife and stood._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________And promptly found himself face to face with a black wolf mask._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________He froze, eyes widening in shock and dawning horror as he took in the silver accents curling around the contours of the wolf face shaped mask, and the single glowing red eye peering at him from the black depths of shadows the mask created._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________His quinque had been taken from him, he was unarmed, drunk, and face to face with one of CCG’s most wanted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________He swallowed thickly, sweat almost instantly beading on his face and neck as he remained frozen. The Wolf didn’t even twitch as Nagitaki took a hesitant step back, and he resisted the urge to turn tail and bolt. He doubted it’d end well for him if he made any sudden movements. He abruptly remembered the throwing knife in his pocket, and he slowly slipped a shaking hand into its depths to retrieve the blade, never once taking his wide brown eyes off the ghoul before him. Of all the days to be without his quinque, of all the damnable _luck _to run into _this, _particular ghoul. Which god had he offended? Today was definitely the worst day in history._____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________The ghoul didn’t move, didn’t even blink that hellish eye, and Nagitaki  spared a quick glance at the rest of his foe. While the wolf mask and glowing kakugan was terrifying enough, the rest of him was just as bad. He was tall, wearing a tight black top with sleeves that ended where black leather gloves began at the wrist, his legs were covered by equally tight black cargo pants dotted with numerous pockets, the ends tucked into plain black combat boots. The ensemble was downright boring compared to some of the getups ghouls wore, but Nagitaki couldn’t find it in himself to find it any less intimidating. The Wolf didn’t need to dress fancy to intimidate, his mask and sheer _presence _did that well enough.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________His hand withdrew from his pocket, and Nagitaki found he didn’t feel any safer with the pathetically small blade in his hand. He was an Investigator for fucks sake, he shouldn’t be sweating, he shouldn’t be about ready to soil himself in the face of a _ghoul _damn it!___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________Bolstered with liquid courage and a stupid hope, Nagitaki lashed out with the knife. A part of him wasn’t even surprised when his wrist was effortlessly caught and held midair. “Fucker.” He hissed regardless, and the Wolf simply tilted his head in response, before plucking the throwing knife from his limp hand and tucking it away in a pocket. Figures. The Wolf was dangerous, not just because he was a powerful ghoul, but because he differed from a lot of others, and didn’t rely solely on his kagune. Asshole liked to tote around _knives.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________________________________________He cursed himself an idiot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________________“Fuck you.” Nagitaki spat. Wolf didn’t respond to his jab, but a swirl of black and glowing blue over his shoulder was all the warning Nagitaki got before the kagune speared him through the stomach. Blood rushed up his throat and splattered onto the floor, coating his and the Wolf’s boots, as well as the black and blue kagune joining them. Nagitaki gasped wetly as the Wolf jerked his kagune free of the Investigators body with a sickening squelch, and he collapsed onto his knees, choking on blood._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________________The Wolf masked ghoul lowered himself into a squat before Nagitaki, his kagune swirling behind him absently, the appendages drifting like water._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________________The dying Investigator snarled wordlessly in the Wolf’s face, before spitting out; “R-rot in hell, mo-monster.” The Wolf leaned in closer and suddenly reached forward with a gloved hand to snatch a hold of his jaw in a painful grip._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________________“You first.” He replied, and Nagitaki felt his heart freeze. Before he could say anything else however, his jaw was released, and the last thing he saw was the Wolf’s kagune aimed right for his eye. He didn’t even get the chance to scream._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. To Change The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _These men were going to kill him, like they’d killed his mother._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _“Eyama, I’ve got this sympathizer, you kill the one eyed freak.” ___

Birds twittered as the cool night sky was touched with the first early morning rays of the sun. A light breeze drifted in through the partially open window, disturbing dark blue curtains drawn against the early morning, bathing the otherwise dark room with the soft glow of early dawn. 

A shrill ringing abruptly disturbed the silence of the room, its tone loud and repetitive. A few moments passed with the harsh sound continuing, before it finally ceased. However, not even a moment later it returned, and a head of sleep mussed black hair jerked out from under a pair of fluffy gray pillows with a snort.

Teal eyes squinted uncomprehendingly at the gently fluttering curtain as the ringing continued before widening in sudden realization, and Amon cursed as he flailed sluggishly under his thick blankets until he succeeded in freeing an arm, which he thrust over to his bedside table to smack onto its surface. His palm encountered smooth timber, and the Investigator released another muffled curse as he groped blindly around his bedside table sleepily until his fingers finally grazed the cool plastic surface of his cell phone. His fingertip nudged the vibrating plastic even as it vibrated away from him, and Amon groaned as he forced himself to wiggle further across the bed, allowing him to finally snatch his ringing phone from the side table. He flopped onto his back as he thumbed the screen and brought the device to his ear, biting back a yawn.

“This is Amon.” He answered, voice slurred with the vestiges of sleep.

“You’re not going to believe this!” A feminine voice replied quickly, and Amon let his eyes drift shut once more as he draped his unoccupied arm over them.

“Akira?” He asked, before lifting his arm just enough to squint blurrily at his alarm clock.

“Yes! Amon, I was right!” The female Investigator rushed out, and Amon groaned.

“Akira, it's five in the morning.” He retorted, his words punctuated by a jaw cracking yawn. He didn’t have to get up for another damn hour.

“I know, and I’m sorry but I was right Amon! Nagitaki Oshinji was found dead earlier this morning, evidence suggests he was killed by a ghoul's kagune, and I’m willing to bet I know exactly whose!” Akira replied in a rush, and Amon lifted his arm from his face and quickly sat up, blanket slipping from his bare torso to pool in his lap.

“Come again?” He asked as he blinked at his bedroom door.

“Nagitaki Oshinji is dead, Amon, killed by a ghoul early this morning on his way home from a local bar.” Akira explained slowly, as if speaking to an addled child. Amon blinked flatly at his door once more.

“Ok,” He said after a moment. “You were right.” He allowed as he rubbed his cheek with his free hand. “But don’t get too excited over this Akira, it could just as easily be a coincidence.” Amon warned, brushing his hair from his face. Akira sighed into the phone, and Amon winced at his own choice of wording. 

“It’s not a coincidence. I’m telling you.” She retorted firmly, and the male sighed. “We need to get this case! With the right information, I can predict the Wolf's movements. Amon, we can get him!” She sounded so sure, so determined, and Amon didn’t know if he could deny her. He should, because there was a reason this case had remained on the board for so long. The Wolf was dangerous, and not in the ways everyone was expecting. 

“Akira.” Amon began. “We can’t.” It was too risky. Too dangerous for anyone involved.

“Why the hell not?” She sounded angry now, and Amon knew he wasn’t going to like how this went. It had to be done though, as much as he wanted Akira to grow into a fine Investigator, to be proud of her achievements...This was not the way to do it. This would end in pain and death, and he would regret it for the rest of his life. Akira was his partner, practically his student...he couldn’t do that to her. Not to Akira. 

“Because I’m telling you. We are not pursuing this case.” His tone left no room for argument, but he knew even after he’d said it that she’d make room anyway. 

“What is wrong with you? We have a chance to take out one of the most dangerous ghouls in the wards and you’re saying ‘we can’t?’ Are you scared or something Amon? Tell me why!” He could pull rank, order her to drop it but, if he did that… 

It wouldn’t work and he damn well knew it. She was...like her father in that regard. Like a dog with a bone and Amon knew that if he let her chase this bone, she’d be buried along with it. 

He sighed and rubbed his inexplicably tired eyes, gritting his teeth. “We have our case, Akira. Rabbit and Eyepatch are our priorities. Not Wolf, let it go.” The line was silent for several beats, and Amon had begun to wonder if she’d hung up on him before she abruptly exhaled sharply. 

“This isn’t over.” She said lowly, and Amon winced as the line went dead. Ah, now she’d hung up on him. He groaned and dropped his phone onto the mattress beside his leg before falling back into his pillows.

“She’s going to have my head by the end of the week.” And he’d walked right into it. She was going to chomp at the bit until he caved, he knew it. He groaned again, before sighing and rolling across his bed to swing his legs over the side. His feet met the plush carpet and he rested his elbows on his bare knees for a moment to rub at his face. How was he going to fix this? Akira was only going to be more determined to chase this case, and Amon wouldn’t be able to say no forever, he’d run out of excuses, and she’d mow right over him. 

With a sigh, the teal eyed Investigator stood from his bed and padded to his adjoining bathroom to relieve himself, wash his face and slip a pair of plain black sweatpants on. Once done he wandered back into his room and eyed his phone, which still sat on top of his blankets, before huffing and making his way out of his room and up the hall of his apartment to the kitchen. He set the kettle to boil and made his way into his living room to open the blinds to his balcony door, allowing the early morning light to filter into his home and cast its dim glow upon his living room. He retreated back into his kitchen and set about making his morning coffee before taking his steaming mug and sitting on his couch to stare tiredly at his blank tv. He sipped slowly at his coffee, allowing the caffeine to wake him up steadily. He drained the cup in record time and set the empty mug on the coffee table next to a scattering of papers and a black belt. 

He leaned back into his couch and sighed, rubbing one hand over his face before staring up at his ceiling. How did everything become so complicated without him noticing? Kureo’s death at the hands of Rabbit had been a shock, and Amon had regretted the man’s death deeply. Add Eyepatch to the mix with his pleading -Don’t make me a killer!- and then his promotion, now he had Akira trying to make everything harder by wanting to go chasing after Wolf. 

Suddenly, being an Investigator seemed a lot more daunting. 

Amon sighed tiredly and stared at his empty coffee mug, its surface ironically displaying a kitten hanging from a tree, telling him to ‘hang in there’. A house warming gift from Shinohara that Amon hadn’t had the heart to decline. 

He wanted to change the world, he wanted to help people, to stop the past from repeating over and over again. He’d dreamed of a world where senseless slaughter wasn’t an everyday occurrence, where families didn’t have to live in fear of what was coming for them, to eat them, to butcher them for trophies! He resisted the sudden urge to hurl the mug at the wall by his tv as the thought dredged up memories he’d rather forget.

_It happened so fast, at first he hadn’t realized what was going on._

_It’d been such a nice day, not a cloud in sight and the sun shining brightly, an unexpected but very pleasant change in the weather. It had been raining non-stop for the past week, normal weather considering the time of year, but he’d been getting so restless being cooped up inside all day. The moment he’d seen how nice it was outside he’d run to his parents and pleaded to go out._

_“Well, it is a nice day.” His mother agreed, looking to his father in question. The man hummed and hawed, hand rising to grasp his chin in contemplation._

_“I dunno.” He said, glancing back at his mother with a smirk. “The weather could change at any moment, and we’d get soaked!” He exclaimed, and his mother snorted inelegantly._

_“Stop teasing him, dear.” The dark haired woman chided. His father chuckled and scratched his head sheepishly._

_“Oh come on, I was just having some fun. Alright, we’ll make it a family day out, hows that sound son?”_

_“Yes!” He shouted, excited. His father laughed and ruffled his hair._

_“I imagine the Zoo’s open, we haven’t been there since you were tiny!” His father said, eying him. “Well, tinier.” He added with a grin._

_“Hey!”_

_They’d gone to the Zoo as promised. It’d been a nice trip, his father had carried him on his shoulders for most of the day while his mother smiled and took pictures. He hadn’t had so much fun with his parents since his birthday, which really had only been a few months previous. He’d turned five, and he’d gotten so many coloring books and new pencils. Best birthday ever._

_“Mom, I’m hungry.” He’d complained on their way home. His mother’s grip on his hand tightened in a brief squeeze as she smiled at him._

_“We’ll get you something as soon as we get home, sweetheart.” She assured, and his father grunted._

_“I’m gonna need to go get some more, honey.” His father said apologetically, rubbing his neck stiffly. His mother sighed softly and shook her head._

_“No, I’ll go. You went last time.” The dark haired woman replied, brushing a hand down his arm in silent affection._

_“It’s no trouble, you know that.” His father tried, and his mother smiled earnestly._

_“I know, you always take such good care of us, but it’s alright dear, I’ll go tonight.” The woman countered gently, and his father sighed._

_“Alright.” And that had been that._

_Except, his mother didn’t come home that night._

_His father had paced the house until morning, hair mussed from his hands constantly scrubbing through it, worry clear in every line of his body. His father tried to put him to bed at some point, but he’d resisted, wanting to wait until his mother got home, wanting to wait until he knew she was alright._

_She didn’t come home._

_By midmorning, his father had tired himself out with worry, and had slumped at the kitchen counter, pale and bereaved. Something had happened, he hadn’t needed his father to tell him, he just knew. The doorbell rang not long after he’d come to the conclusion that his mother wasn’t coming home, and his father stood quickly, all but running to the door, eyes frantic with hope. He’d followed his father, just as hopeful that maybe he’d been wrong. His father didn’t even touch the handle before the door exploded inwards, a dark shape ripping through the wood like so much paper. Blood splattered the floor and walls, and his father hit the ground with a wet thump._

_“Looks like I was right.” An oily voice said from beyond the destroyed doorway. “Where there’s one, there’s always more.” His father’s blood was warm on his skin, and his limbs trembled in shock as his right eye burned. “And look, the bitch has a whelp.” He’d been frozen, limbs refusing to budge as he’d stared at the bloodied floor._

_“Whoa, Asaki, check it out, it’s only got one eye.” A second voice said, incredulous._

_“What the fuck.” The first voice replied, and a dark figure silhouetted by the morning sun stepped into his line of sight. “One kakugan?”_

_“Kou-...un.”_

_“You still alive man? Heh, tougher than I thought.” He couldn’t move, he was too scared, terrified, had these men hurt his mother? “I hate you sympathisers, always getting in the way.” Are they the reason she hadn’t come home? Who were they, why were they here, why had they hurt his father? “You make me sick!” They were wearing trenchcoats, and...one was holding a silver briefcase. His mother had told him about these men before!_

**_‘Listen to me baby, if you ever see someone like that run, you hear me? You run as fast as you can and you don’t stop running until you’re far, far away, got it!? Tell me you understand!’_ **

_These men were going to kill him, like they’d killed his mother._

_“Eyama, I’ve got this sympathiser, you kill the one eyed freak.”_

_“N-no…” His father reached out a weak hand and wrapped his bloodied fingers around the man’s ankle. “Ple-ease, n-no.” He gasped. The one known as Asaki sneered down at the dying man and kicked his ankle free._

_“Say nighty night!” The trench coat wearing man exclaimed, lifting his weapon. His father ignored the man about to kill him and turned wide teal eyes to him._

_“Koutarou, run!”_

__

Dark teal eyes drifted from his coffee mug to the recently polished black and silver wolf mask atop his paperwork. 

**This world is wrong. I want to help make it right. ******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom.
> 
> Lemme know what you think!


	3. Starts With The First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You threw your shoe at me!?”
> 
> How rude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [03-01-17] Edited the chapter, I found I wasn't overly happy with a few things. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, but I'm open to volunteers! :)

Whatever hopes Amon had somewhat foolishly harboured of his day improving after a sour morning were dashed not even five minutes after he’d walked somewhat bleary eyed into HQ that morning. A few of his colleagues greeted him with smiles and various iterations of ‘good morning!’ and Amon returned them half heartedly as he trudged through the halls of the CCG. 

The day had already started off somewhat badly, but the teal eyed Investigator had stubbornly held onto his hopes. He should have known it was in vain however, he was very rarely that lucky these days. It was usually self inflicted however, he really shouldn’t have allowed himself to play into expectations. 

“Amon!” A peeved voice shouted somewhere behind him, and Amon quickened his pace, praying his longer stride would carry him far, far away from what was coming. He wasn’t a coward by any stretch, but he would be the first to admit that he really, really did not want to deal with the woman currently storming after him, carelessly shoving a poor intern out her path in pursuit. It was too early for this. 

The swift ‘click click’ of Akira’s heels chased Amon all the way into his office, where he somewhat childishly tried to slam the door in her face. He should have expected it to bounce back and hit him square in the face when the irate blond shouldered it back open, pushing her way past him and into the office. The dark haired man sighed even as he rubbed his smarting cheek, inwardly pondering the amount of force his partner must have placed behind her shoulder for him to actually feel the impact as well as he had. 

“Good morning to you, too.” He greeted, tone a little sarcastic. He closed the door after one last longing glance at the halls to freedom. Akira scoffed at him and whirled to lean on the edge of his desk, arms folded across her chest, where her finger beat a steady tattoo on her bicep. He risked a peek at her expression and sighed again. Way too early. “Look, Akira-”

“Don’t you ‘Look Akira’ me, Amon! I want to know what the hell your problem is!” The blond Investigator spat, and Amon resisted the urge to sigh again as he circled around her to slump into his chair behind his desk. He knew she wouldn’t let it go. He knew. Akira twisted around and slammed her palms onto the glass surface of the desk, the force causing his pen holder to bounce and tip over, spilling the numerous writing implements across its cool surface. Amon tried not to stare forlornly at yet another mess he’d have to clean up. There were a few of them already, and it looked very much like he’d have to be meticulous in cleaning up. He rather despised messes. 

“I don’t have a proble-” He tried, only to be interrupted by a loud scoff. Akira jabbed a finger at him.

“Don’t you try that with me, I’m not some greenhorn that dances to your tune, I am your partner and I deserve to know why you keep blowing me off about the Wolf case!” She all but snarled, and Amon leaned back in his chair, taken aback by the blond’s intensity. He opened his mouth, a retort on his tongue before he was once again interrupted. 

“At first I thought you just might be intimidated, that the Wolf frightened you just enough that you decided to stay well away, but then I thought about it some more. You’re Amon Koutarou, Investigator First Class, you killed a ghoul with your bare hands, nothing scares you that badly!” She declared, and Amon resisted the urge to point out how very wrong she was. He feared a lot of things. 

“Then I thought that maybe you’d been ordered to stay the hell off the case, but last night I checked, and guess what? There were no such orders!” She hissed. Amon leant forward in his chair and opened his mouth again. “So I thought about it, and thought about it some more, and ended up dissecting every decision you’ve ever made in my presence! Amon, you’re bull-headed to the point I want to strangle you sometimes, but I know for a fact that if you want something done, nothing could damn well stop you, most certainly not some jacked up asshole ghoul in a wolf mask!” Ouch. “So I need to know what’s going on with you! And I’m not going to stop until you get over yourself and tell me why you’re so against catching this guy!” He took note of the faint bags under her eyes, and guilt niggled at the back of his mind. Had she been up all night thinking about this? Knowing her, it was likely. Akira Mado did nothing by halves these days, and that included over thinking things. 

“It’s as if you don’t want him to get caught!” Amon watched in a detached sort of shock as Akira slumped, breathing hard as she glared at him through her fringe. It looked like the blue eyed woman had been winding up for this tangent all morning, and Amon wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. 

A minute or so ticked by before he managed to kick start his brain into proper function and he slowly opened his mouth, hesitating for a moment to test to see if he’d be interrupted for a third time. When no further interruptions were forthcoming he cleared his throat. 

“Akira,” He started almost gently, mindful of her apparently short fuse. He leaned forward in his chair to peer up at the hellishly peeved blond through her bangs. “It’s not something I can explain.” The icy glare he received in response had him hastily holding up a hand before his partner could continue her tirade. “But,” He paused and lowered his hand with a sigh. “I’ll try.” He added, and he was rewarded with Akira’s glare abating somewhat. There was only so much he could say, because if he put even a toe out of line everything was liable to blow up in his face, and that was an event he’d been dreading since the day he first realized he could pass through an RC detector without getting his head removed from his shoulders. The female Investigator straightened and folded her arms, expression expectant. Amon sighed again and inwardly apologised to her in the privacy of his own mind. He always tried to avoid lying when he could, it minimised the possibility of tripping him up later. Half truths and omission tended to be the best options, even if they sometimes made him feel like dirt.

“I’m not afraid of Wolf.” Truth. “And there’s nothing really stopping me from pursuing his case.” Also Truth. “But there are aspects of his case that you’re not aware of.” No one was. “Aspects that could…prove very problematic for everyone involved.” True enough it physically pained him sometimes. Akira frowned and opened her arms, spreading them invitingly.

“I’m all ears.” She said. “What aspects?” She demanded, dropping her arms. Amon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This is where he knew he’d earn her ire anew.

“I can’t tell you.” He admitted. The glare returned and the teal eyed man hastened to add, “I can’t Akira, please.” He begged. A low blow, he never begged for anything and she knew it. A pregnant pause ebbed by, the silence punctuated by the ticking of the clock on the wall behind Akira, and Amon braced himself for more turmoil. 

“What would happen if you told me?” She asked, and Amon choked back a bitter laugh. 

“You’d die.” He replied quietly. It wasn’t a choice he wanted to make, but he knew, if he wanted to survive it would have to be done. It would hurt for a long time after. Truth. Akira’s blue eyes widened, and she leaned back faintly to eye him for several moments. Eventually her expression seemed to melt, softening bit by bit until she was watching him almost fondly. 

“You won’t pursue the Wolf case,” She began. “-because you want to protect me?” She asked quietly. Amon hesitated, before dropping his gaze to the pens scattered across his desk. 

“Yes.” Half-truth. He didn’t want to lie, but sometimes he could allow these half-truths, it was and always would be the lesser of two evils, in his mind. In reality, there was a part of him that was selfish, if you could call ones instinct of self-preservation selfishness. He was protecting Akira yes, but he was also protecting himself. 

“That’s,” Akira trailed off, looking faintly touched, before abruptly launching something black and shiny at his head. Amon ducked a little too quickly and almost toppled out of his chair as the blond reared up to her full height. “-the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” She shrieked, and Amon groaned and slumped onto his desk.

“I don’t know what to say anymore.” He mumbled morosely, and once more eyed his door longingly. Akira pointed a perfect nail at him.

“I’m touched, really.” She started, and a small voice in the back of Amon’s head snidely remarked that she was indeed touched, in the head. “But how about the truth this time!?” She snarled. “And while we’re on the subject, what about Nagitaki, Amon!? Are we even going to discuss what happened this morning? I was right and now we have proof!” Amon opened his mouth to moan about the unfairness of it all, only to be interrupted by the door opening. 

Akira paused, and Amon flicked his eyes over to the doorway to meet the surprised eyes of Shinohara. The teal eyed man straightened in his chair and cleared his throat, looking for all the world as if he hadn’t just been getting chewed out by his irate partner. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” The older man said in lieu of greeting, glancing uncertainly between the other two Investigators. Amon sort of wanted to thank him.

“I’m not!” Chirped Suzuya as he squeezed past Shinohara’s bulk to sway into the office. The white haired youth’s unusual eyes all but sparkled as he sauntered up to Amon’s desk and hopped up to perch on its edge. Shinohara sighed under his breath as his protégé leaned back to peer upside down at Amon, who quirked a unique brow. 

“Juuzou!” Shinohara exclaimed. “Get off Amon’s desk!” He ordered, only to be ignored as the white haired youth smiled at the teal eyed man in front of him. Amon resisted the urge to shove the smaller male off his desk, or worse. 

“What did you need Shinohara?” The dark haired Investigator asked instead, opting to ignore the teenager now holding one of the many pens scattered on the desk. The older man sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I just got a call. There’s a pair of suspected ghouls causing a scene in the twentieth ward.” The man began. “But Juuzou and I can’t respond, we’ve got a meeting with the board to discuss his behaviour as of late.” He said, eying the teen pointedly. Suzuya pouted as he continued to weave unseen patterns in the air with his pilfered pen. “Everyone else has their own problems at the moment, so I need you and Akira to go deal with them, if you’re up to it?” Shinohara asked. Amon almost leapt out of his chair at the unexpected escape. 

“Sure.” He said quickly, not giving his partner a chance to decline, if she’d even been entertaining the notion. “Akira and I will sort it out.” He agreed as he reached under his desk. Akira huffed and folded her arms, but nodded her agreement as well as Amon straightened and placed his quinque on his desk. He no longer shuddered at the sight of the innocuous looking silver case. “Just the two?” He asked, and Shinohara nodded. 

“If they are actually ghouls, they’re low level, just a pair of punks I’d wager.” He added, and Akira retrieved her own quinque from its place by the door. Amon tried not to double take. He hadn’t seen her bring it in. “I’ll text you the location once you’re out the doors.” The older Investigator said. “Juuzou!” He snapped. Suzuya hummed as he rolled off the desk and onto his feet, pen still in hand as he smiled somewhat creepily at Amon.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t~” He sang as he dutifully followed his mentor out into the hall. The door clicked closed behind the white haired Investigator and Amon winced as he felt the heated gaze directed at him. 

“This isn’t over, Amon.” Akira promised as she stalked behind Amon’s desk. The teal eyed male watched in surprise as she bent over to retrieve what she’d thrown at him, and Amon balked.

“You threw your shoe at me!?”

How rude.

 

. . .  
. . .

 

All things considered, Amon shouldn’t have been surprised when the two ‘ghouls’ turned out to be a pair of normal human punks wreaking havoc. He felt almost cheated, in a way. He’d been looking forward to the distraction of a good chase. If they had been ghouls, they’d have been idiots, causing a scene in a crowded plaza in broad daylight. The responding police officers were caught between sighing in relief and shaking their heads at the youth of today. Amon somewhat sympathised. 

A subtle glance at Akira showed the blond to be somewhat stone faced, and Amon sighed for the umpteenth time since being so rudely awoken that morning with the news of a different kind of monsters death. The entire situation with her was almost enough to drive him to tears, or murder. He’d rather settle on murder, it was more manly. Well, actually, this entire situation started with a murder, so maybe he should just cry instead. Cry for his dwindling masculinity. 

“I’m hungry, you’re buying me lunch.” Akira announced as she straightened her coat against the chill in the air. Amon dropped his hand from where he’d been rubbing his temple and side eyed her. 

“I am?” He asked somewhat flatly. Akira nodded decisively and smiled at him, the expression a little vindictive. Amon tried not to shudder. 

“After being such an asshole these last couple of days? Yes, you are.” She stated. Amon scowled at her without any real heat. Yeah, he did kind of deserved that. 

“Alright.” He agreed as he checked his phone almost hopefully. Nothing. He was stuck with Akira for lunch. Ordinarily he truly wouldn’t mind, but lately? He kind of wanted to find a big rock and hide under it. He’d never had such a complicated and stressful week. Well, he had, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that particular thought. 

“I could go for something greasy.” Akira decided aloud. Amon grimaced.

“Of course you could.” Of all the things she could have chosen. Akira grinned sunnily at him as she made her way towards the car. Amon didn’t buy it for a second. Somehow, he knew this was that asshole Nagitaki’s fault. 

The drive to the takeaway place Akira wanted was awkward at best, at least for Amon, and he had to fight the urge to squirm in the drivers seat the entire trip. His partner hadn’t said a word since her announcement of lunch, and Amon knew she was cooking up another tirade to back him into later. 

She was like a dog with a bone, and he had no idea how to deal with that. He wasn’t a fool, he knew if he didn’t nip this in the bud before it could go any further something was going to come back and bite him in the ass, whether it be a quinque or another tongue lashing. 

They pulled into the car park and entered the diner without much fanfare, and sat down in a somewhat private booth in the back after placing their orders. True to her ire with him, Akira had made sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu in a petty form of revenge. Amon didn’t even comment, he’d just ordered something simple that didn’t sound overly greasy and paid the cashier with a somewhat vague smile. 

“So,” Akira began, and Amon very much wanted to smash his face into the table. With any luck it’d knock him out and he wouldn’t have to go through this again. He’d never been very lucky. “Evidently there’s something about the Wolf case that you refuse to let me in on.” She stated, and Amon sipped his glass of water in a futile attempt at stalling. “I’ve decided it’s not something entirely work related.” She continued, blue eyes watching him avidly. Amon really wanted to stop her there, but he knew it wouldn’t end in his favour. Akira would keep hounding him until something gave, and Amon prayed to a God he no longer believed in that it wouldn’t end in bloodshed. 

This was Nagitaki’s fault. Damn him to the deepest depths of hell.

Their food arrived, preventing Akira from continuing. Amon thanked the waitress a little too honestly. 

He had said he was never that lucky, however. Akira dipped a thickly cut chip into the small bowl of sauce beside her plate and bit into it somewhat pointedly, and Amon figured she was probably waiting for him to say something. He picked up his fork and shoved a quarter cut of tomato into his mouth instead. Akira scowled and rolled her eyes before relenting somewhat in favour of her own food. Amon forced himself to swallow the disgustingly squishy tomato with minimal chewing, before glancing down at his order, belatedly realising it was some sort of salad drowning in a thick white sauce that smelt absolutely nauseating. His stomach churned. Somehow he knew eating garbage would taste better.

“So, you want to tell me why it’s personal?” Akira abruptly asked after taking a sip of her soda. Amon almost choked on his next bite of unidentifiable salad. He chased it down with a mouthful of water. 

“Why what’s personal?” He asked, voice a little hoarse as he fought to keep his face somewhat straight. Whatever the hell he’d ordered tasted terrifyingly horrible, and considering the disgusting things he’d had to eat over the years, that was saying a lot. Why he’d ordered the only damn thing on the menu with no meat in it he had no idea, not that it would have helped. Oblivious to his current dilemma, Akira took a bite out of her burger and raised a brow at him as she dabbed some sauce from the corner of her lip with her napkin. 

“The Wolf, genius, stop trying to stall.” She retorted after she’d swallowed. Amon grimaced at her, but she remained unfazed. 

“It’s not personal.” He denied. Akira sighed explosively.

“I’m going to figure it out eventually Amon.” She said, and Amon hid behind his water. He knew she would, it was what he was afraid of. Akira sighed again and stared down at her food pensively. “I hope, for your sake…it’s not something we’ll both regret.” She said at length, lifting her gaze to him. Amon stared at her for a moment, meeting her gaze, before he looked away with a faint frown. 

“Me too.” He admitted quietly. They sat in silence for the rest of the meal, and the following drive back to HQ.

Amon couldn’t bring himself to look at her for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's chapter three. I apparently can't do Suzuya. Akira really is a dog with a bone, and poor Amon can't catch break.
> 
> Next chapter: The Wolf strikes again, and Amon faces more problems, this time not Akira related.


	4. Cry For Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mon Dieu! Does my nose deceive me? Do my eyes betray me!?” 
> 
> “Stop touching me!”

The work day ended just as it had started. On a sour note. 

Amon couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. In all honesty, he’d probably brought a lot of the drama down on himself. He could blame Nagitaki as much as he wanted, but at the end of the day he was the fool who decided to play into expectations. 

He wasn’t usually so reckless. 

His apartment was silent and cold when he opened the door and stepped in, just as it had been every day for several years now. He’d grown used to it, but never really comfortable. His apartment was where he lived, but it wasn’t home. He hadn’t had a real home in a long time. Not since Donato. 

It was easy to remember having a home, but it was even easier to remember why it wasn’t home anymore. 

Living at the orphanage with Father Donato Porpora had no doubt saved his life. If he hadn’t stumbled across the man as a child he would have probably died scared, hungry and alone. He’d been too young to survive on his own in a cruel world, his parent’s murders at the hands of those Investigators had left him traumatized and terrified. 

The kindly priest had taken him in and given him a home. Amon had known what the man truly was upon first meeting him. It was easy to smell the difference. He knew to be wary of other ghouls, but Donato had been kind, and Amon had been so alone and hungry. Donato had provided for him, shielded him from the world while at the same time teaching him about it. He’d grown under the mans care, and once he was old enough, he’d then been taught something new, something that would keep him alive. He’d been taught how to hunt. 

He’d been taught how to be discrete, to keep under the radar. To never hunt those with people who would miss them, because those people would search, and if they searched then evidence would be found. 

He’d learned a great many things in the years he’d spent under the ghoul priest.

Donato’s betrayal had not been expected. It had left him angry and hurt. At least the man had waited until he was old and wise enough to fend for himself before showing his true colours. The small mercy had never abated his anger at the man he’d considered an uncle. To this day he was still angry, but he was also confused. 

Even after all these years spent in Cochlea, Donato hadn’t breathed a word about Amon. 

Hadn’t said a thing about the half ghoul boy he’d taken in and raised, about how that same half ghoul boy was hiding right under their noses.

Why!? 

The worst part of it all was that he couldn’t even ask. Not without drawing attention to himself, and a small part of him worried that bringing it up to the ghoul priest would cause him to let the fact slip.

Amon removed his uniform coat and left it draped over the back of his couch before making his way to his bathroom, stripping off his tie and unbuttoning his cuffs as he went. 

When he’d been younger, when he’d first had the thought to join the CCG, Amon had worried constantly. What if he was found out? What if he gave himself away? He’d been almost skittish, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Now, years later and a fully qualified Investigator First Class, his only concern was what his parent’s would have thought of him now. He had joined the very people who had killed them, after all. 

He tempered that worry however. One of his first acts as a fully fledged Investigator had been to track down ‘Eyama’ and ‘Asaki’, the two who had barged into his childhood home and butchered his father, after having done the same to his mother while she was out. It had been almost pathetically easy, really. 

It’d been even easier to return a long overdue favor. It was the night the Wolf had first appeared.

The astonishing part? There hadn’t even been an investigation into their murders. They’d just been ruled as casualties of a rampaging ghoul attack and the proper condolences had been sent to their families with the CCG’s platitudes. It had both sickened and amused him. 

Amon tossed his uniform shirt into the washing hamper and stepped out of his trousers and underwear, slipping into the shower. He smelt of grease after that brief stint in the diner, and he needed the smell to be gone before his stomach rebelled again. The water was as hot as he could stand it, and his bathroom quickly filled with steam. He made a point of scrubbing any traces of the diner and that cursed salad from his skin and hair, even going to far as to brush his teeth a few times. 

His stomach roiled threateningly, and Amon leant forward to rest his forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall, closing his eyes in an attempt to will away the discomfort. He needed a proper meal, or he was going to wind up regretting life. He’d never considered the dietary aspects of joining the CCG, going in. Sure, he’d covered his bases with quite a few things, but it’d never crossed his mind that he’d have to eat like them too. He’d been in too much of a hurry, only thinking about how he’d have to space his hunts out over extended periods of time to avoid suspicion. That had worked for all of a week before a classmate in the academy had innocently inquired about his lack of lunch.

Learning to eat like them had been hell, and the only real improvements have been his ability to keep a straight face and everything he ate down. Not to say it didn’t come back to haunt him later. It always did, and it always left him weaker for it. 

It was a double edged sword. 

He had little trouble moderating himself in the presence of humans, watching his strength, his speed. It was easy and it was all thanks to his stature. He was tall and broad, built with enough muscle that the very rare instances he slipped up, it was played away as the result of his body, honed to perfection. 

But eating human food for a straight week always left him feeling like a stiff breeze would knock him over. 

He had to hunt more often because of it. To balance out the weakness the human food instilled in him with the strength human meat gave him. And, on occasions, the raw power of ghoul. He didn’t turn his nose up at the thought, never had. Survival was a game for the fittest when it came to ghouls, street ghouls especially. The thugs of the species. Easy to hunt, easy to prey on, and the streets were safer for everyone for it. 

He did not, however, over indulge. He was no fool, he knew damn well what sustained cannibalism did to ghouls, and although he was unique, he didn’t care to test it.

Human food came in so many shapes, sizes, smells, textures and colours, but at the end of the day it still tasted like the poison it was. Some foods, however, were worse than others. 

Like that damned salad, it had to have been spawned by Satan himself. 

A warning churn from his stomach had Amon hastily turning the water off and stepping quickly out of the shower to linger uncertainly between the sink and toilet. Water dripped down his chest and back from his soaked hair as he tried to decide if he was going to dry wretch some more or not. He’d long since gotten that salad from his stomach, but it was still haunting him. A beat passed, and when no more warning churns came from his stomach Amon gingerly grabbed his towel and dried himself off. 

Once sufficiently dry he wrapped the fluffy towel around his waist and exited his bathroom, ignoring the wall of steam that abruptly flooded his hallway when he opened the door. He made his way to his bedroom and squatted by his bed to reach an arm underneath it, withdrawing an ordinary looking duffle bag. 

There were much better places to hide potentially damning evidence, but Amon had long since mastered the art of hiding in plain sight. 

Deft fingers grasped the zipper and pulled it back, parting the green folds of what could be mistaken for a military duffle. A quick inspection showed that everything he needed was indeed inside before he lifted the bag and dropped it unceremoniously on his bed. He retreated to his closet and opened it to pull a pair of underwear from the drawer inside. He ignored the numerous uniforms hanging on their hooks beside the drawer and stooped to collect a pair of black boots from the bottom of the closet. He slid the door back into place and returned to his bed, where he shucked his towel to the floor and pulled on the clean underwear, before reaching into the duffle to pull out a pair of matt black pants. He pulled them on unhurriedly, absently patting down a few of the numerous pockets along his thighs. Once the pockets were deemed to be as they should, Amon pulled the plain long sleeved and hooded black shirt from the bag as well and slipped it over his head, allowing the tight fabric to settle over his stomach before he tucked the ends into his pants, fastening them closed over top. 

His boots went on next after he located his socks, and he tucked the ends of his pants into the worn black leather before standing and peering into the duffle bag again. He blinked at the second black outfit inside before frowning. Where had he put- Ah.

Amon shoved the bag back under his bed and exited his bedroom after flicking off the light. His heavy boots thudded against the carpet in the hall as he made his way into his living room where, sure enough, he spied his belt. The strip of black leather was looped into his pants and fastened efficiently. 

Teal eyes glanced around the living space for a moment as Amon checked and double checked that everything was in order. His front door was locked, his phone was switched off, all he’d need to do before he left was turn off the lights, and then for all intents and purposes he’d gone to bed after a trying day. 

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of black leather gloves, which he slipped over his hands. The last thing he needed was someone getting a hold of his fingerprints. Amon bent and slipped his newly gloved fingers under the edge of the polished mask on his coffee table before straightening, peering down at the final piece. His living room was dim, illuminated only by the light of the kitchen and the faint and fading rays of the setting sun through his balcony doors. The orange wisps of fading sunlight reflected off the mask, glinting against the silver accents curling around the empty eyes.

Amon stared at the mask, his mask, pensively for several minutes. It wasn’t his original mask, far from it. His first mask had been given to him by an acquaintance of Donato’s. It had been a plain white deer mask that Donato had said suited him. Back then Amon hadn’t cared much for the symbolism, he’d just been happy to finally have his own mask.

Up until he’d smashed it in a fit of rage after Donato’s betrayal. 

This one though, this one was more him than that deer mask could ever have been. The deer had been given to him, this one had been made. Made by a rather odd character Amon had had the fortune of running (almost literally) into one evening on a hunt. He’d been using nothing but his hood to hide his face back then, and the odd ghoul he’d almost bowled over had seemed honestly offended, and had informed him quite gravely that he was going to make him a new mask, on the house.

It had been an odd night, getting his head measured in the middle of a dark alley by a complete stranger while both of them were somewhat blood spattered and a few Dove’s were running in circles a ways back. The other ghoul hadn’t even seemed to notice. 

Amon had put the encounter out of his mind up until he’d almost tripped over a package left in his doorway a few days later. 

To this day Amon hadn’t figured out how the odd ghoul with too many tattoos and piercings had known where he lived. 

The sun had fully set by the time Amon pulled himself from his thoughts and glanced up to check the time. Good, he never left his apartment like this until it was dark out. He couldn’t run the risk of being seen, and his all black ensemble was best utilized at night, as was its purpose.

With a final glance at his mask, the teal eyed man lifted it and slipped it into place over his face after using a hand to brush his hair back. His hair spiked slightly from the motion, but Amon ignored it in favor of opening his balcony door. He slipped out into the cool evening air silently, closing the door softly behind him. He stood on the balcony for a few moments, breathing in the city air. His breath fogged slightly in the evening chill, the white wisps curling out from the bottom of his mask. He breathed steadily until his mind cleared, and Amon allowed the man to step back, and the Wolf to step forward.

 

He had an annoying lunatic to find and warn.

. . .  
. . .

 

Let it never be said that the Wolf lacked patience. 

 

His target had been warned once already, some time ago. For all intents and purposes, the warning had worked. For the most part. His target was a ghoul known to the CCG, and they’d been after him for years. The Wolf had tracked him down the first time to deliver a warning delivered in blood and broken bones when words had been ignored. 

Then, the ghoul had been too high profile, seemingly without care who he preyed upon and where he left remains. And God, were there remains. Mostly untouched remains that had the Wolf seething. Killing humans for food was acceptable to him so long as certain standards were met. He saw no issue with devouring their natural prey, but some decency is always expected. Most ghouls had that decency, but just like with humans, there were the ghouls that ignored the unspoken rules and went out of their way to make monsters of themselves, and their species as a whole when the humans caught wind of it. 

But this ghoul hadn’t devoured his prey, he’d picked choice pieces and left the majority for scavengers or humans to find. 

So he’d left him with his warning.

 

This particular ghoul, however, had earned the Wolfs ire in more ways than one. This ghoul surrounded himself with fine things and stopped at nothing to collect those things when they caught his eye. 

This ghoul apparently considered the Wolf a fine thing and had tried to collect him at numerous turns, his attempts however had slowed to a crawl once the Wolf had made very clear that he had no interest in being anyone’s pet. While the Wolf had met the ghouls pretty words and grabby hands with boot and kagune, the man behind the Wolf, Amon, had spluttered at the ghouls indecency. 

There was only so many times he could stomp the maniacs head into the pavement to the chorus of muffled poetic proclamations and his own spluttered demands to be left the hell alone already. He dreaded stepping foot onto the ghouls property, but didn’t allow himself to follow through with the urge to bolt. Instead, aided by his kagune, he dropped onto the candle lit balcony.

“Mon Dieu! Does my nose deceive me? Do my eyes betray me!?” His target abruptly purred, and Wolf resisted the urge to give a full body shudder. “They do not!” The ghoul all but squealed as he jumped up out of his chair and sidled up to Amon, who raised an arm and blocked the purple haired ghoul’s attempts to inch closer. 

“I’m really not in the mood.” Amon deadpanned as he side stepped the sudden twirl the ghoul performed to escape his restraining hand. 

“Mon loup, when are you ever?” The ghoul asked with a rather unsettling pout. Amon reached out and snatched a hold of the other male’s obnoxiously bright suit and reeled him in, hauling the still pouting ghoul up to his mask. 

“You want to explain what the hell you think you’re up to?” The Wolf growled, and the purple haired ghoul raised a slender brow in response, seemingly completely unconcerned with the tight grip the half ghoul had on his suit. 

“Me? I think of a great many beautiful things, but I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re implying.” He answered. Amon scowled behind his mask. 

“The Restaurant, Gourmet.” He hissed. That had been a fucking nightmare unto itself. Picky gourmets aside, the idea of those restaurants that they ran set his skin to crawling. The purple haired ghoul’s eyes brightened in recognition. 

“Ah yes, that!” He chuckled as he reached up to pat the gloved hand clenched around his suit collar. “I assure you it won’t happen again, you see, I’ve seen the light, a beautiful, sweet light that I’d sooner die than snuff out!” The maniac proclaimed, and Amon spared a thought for the poor soul that had drawn this mans attention. Also;

“This sounds disturbingly familiar.” The Wolf remarked dryly, and the ghoul winked saucily at him and purred. 

“Do not weep, mon loup, for while my passion for you has been overtaken by another, I shall never forget you.” Amon grimaced and dropped the maniac from his hold. 

“If I weep I’ll be doing it out of relief.” Or horror, because he did not need those mental images, thank you. 

It should piss him off that this maniac was about to go off and terrorize some poor soul by throwing his affections at them, wanted or not, just as he’d done to the Wolf, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. Tsukiyama Shuu was many things, all of them deplorable and annoying, but he wasn’t as bad as most other gourmets. Dangerous? Yes. Annoying? Definitely. A monster? Debatable, considering his affection was an oddly endearing thing even if it was horribly annoying. 

He had been behaving himself for the most part, though, so the Wolf really couldn’t condemn him this time. 

“This is your last warning, Tsukiyama. I don’t want to hear anymore complaints about your damned restaurants.” Amon growled as he jabbed a finger into the ghoul’s chest. The purple haired menace wrapped his fingers around Amon’s hand, trapping it as the brightly clad male sighed dramatically and leaned into him. 

“I’ll take it to heart, mon loup. There shan’t be anymore cause for concern.” Tsukiyama whispered, batting his lashes and petting his trapped hand. Amon snatched it back and flapped it in the lunatics face, shooing him back.

“Stop touching me!” Amon hissed, and yanked his hand back when the purple haired ghoul tried to take it again. 

“Still so easily flustered, mon loup, très bien!” The ghoul cackled gleefully. Amon shoved the idiot off his own balcony. 

He’d be fine.

Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon dieu! A wild Tsukiyama appears! 
> 
> I find the idea of Tsukiyama fawning over Amon priceless. Think of Amon as being his first Kaneki. I'm not sorry. Also, -whispers- Uta. 
> 
> French translations for the confused.
> 
> Mon dieu = My God  
> Mon Loup = My Wolf  
> Très bien = Very good
> 
> I apologize for the mildly filler'ish chapter. The nights not over yet. Promise.
> 
> If anyone's curious about Amon's mask, its design is very similar to this. 
> 
> http://orig15.deviantart.net/d196/f/2012/233/b/8/black_and_silver_wolf_mask_by_namingway-d5by10j.jpg


End file.
